


Anything but mechanical

by armillarysphere



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vehicular Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-03
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armillarysphere/pseuds/armillarysphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You sure there's no way you're getting in that car, Danny?"</p><p>"Why? It doesn't work; we wouldn't be able to go anywhere."</p><p>"Who said anything about going anywhere?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything but mechanical

**Author's Note:**

> The image of Steve dressed as a dirty mechanic popped into my head one morning on the way to work, and this was the result ;)

"Yo, McGarrett? Where you hiding?"

Danny's voice carries through the door that joins the garage to the utility room, sounding as though he's already got annoyed at not being able to find Steve inside the house. He smiles to himself as he keeps rooting around under the bonnet of the Marquis, not making any effort to move and put Danny out of his misery.

"Swear to -- how in hell's name can a six-foot Navy fuckin' SEAL hide -- oh, there you are. You didn't hear me calling?"

Steve straightens as Danny's heavy footsteps stop in the doorway, two more thunks as he comes down the step into the garage itself. He grabs the rag he left draped over the wing mirror and wipes his hands half-heartedly, grinning at Danny.

"What? Gracie never make you play hide-and-go-seek? You don't answer when someone calls your name, Danno. That's a rookie mistake."

"Ha-de-fucking-ha. I should've figured you'd be in here. I am not getting in that thing again until you have it looked at by a professional. You know, someone who is trained in automobile maintenance."

"Hey, I'm trained. The Navy --"

"Oh, no. I am not talking about some kind of botch job, patch it together with sticks and mud type 'training' --"

Steve can hear the air quotes around the last word but he bites back his smile, schooling his face into what he knows Danny calls his 'Okay, I'll humour you for now, Danny' expression, nodding as sagely as he can manage before ducking his head back under the bonnet and going back to tightening his spark plugs.

"-- I'm talking about someone who's taken a class or two, heck, maybe even done one of those apprenticeship things. My cousin, he got one, but then he slept with his boss’ niece or granddaughter or something, and got told never to darken their doors again. Schmuck. You, babe, are not remotely _qualified_ to fix something this --"

Steve can see Danny's arms waving around even though he's not looking directly at him.

"-- dilapidated."

"Why are you here, Danny?"

"Huh?"

Steve stands back up, wiping his hands again before he pops a few of the studs on his coveralls. The white wife-beater he put on underneath is already stained with oil and grease so it doesn't matter if he adds a few more as he shrugs his arms free, letting the coveralls fall down to his waist. He has his only pair of jeans on his lower half -- the pockets of his cargo pants are too bulky to fit under, and besides, he's surrounded by enough things he could use to protect himself if an intruder turned out to be someone other than his partner.

"What brings you to my home on our day off? And why are you still wearing a tie?"

"I, uh. Don't remember."

"You don't remember why you're here, or why you're wearing a tie?"

Steve watches Danny's eyes as they travel over his chest and arms. He's got oil streaked everywhere despite the coveralls -- the sleeves had annoyed him so he'd pushed them up -- and the wife-beater is perhaps a little small these days, so it clings to his chest muscles a bit more than usual. He absolutely didn't put it on on purpose because he had a feeling Danny would just 'drop by' at some point today. Nope, definitely not.

"Err... no... But you're, er, busy, so I'll go --"

Danny points towards the door, eyes not leaving Steve's chest for a moment, as if he's caught in some kind of tractor beam. Steve drops his smile when Danny's eyes snap up, but he's sure he wasn't fast enough.

"You sure there's no way you're getting in that car, Danny?"

"Why? It doesn't work; we wouldn't be able to go anywhere."

"Who said anything about going anywhere?"

Steve steps closer, lifts a dirty hand and runs his finger down Danny's tie. It's silk, he can feel just from that simple touch, so he really shouldn't wrap it around his hand, because the oil will never come out, but it's just right there and so tempting and so _useful_ when it comes to hauling Danny closer for a kiss.

Danny tastes of malasadas and coffee, sugar crystals still lingering at the corners of his mouth as Steve runs his tongue over Danny's lips, his other hand coming up to cup the side of Danny's face. He can smell the metal of the car's engine on his fingers, mixing with the smell of Danny's aftershave and hair gel, the faint salt-tang of the ocean coming off of Danny's shirt, even though he'd swear blind that he still smells of Jersey, how it oozes from his pores and saturates anything this island has to offer.

Steve keeps kissing him as he crowds Danny against the side of the Marquis, muffling any protests with his tongue and lips while his hand pulls Danny's shirt out from his pants, fingers brushing the soft skin of his stomach immediately after, sliding up over that broad chest, and even with his eyes closed he can see the golden hairs that catch on his fingertips before he gets to Danny's nipple.

"Fuck. Fuck you. That's -- that's not fair."

Steve pulls the best innocent face he can manage when Danny breaks off the kiss and punches him in the arm. It's a glancing blow at best, but then Danny's not really fighting him on this. He can feel that from the bulge against his thigh when he slides it between Danny's.

"Don't try and look innocent, you -- you, ugh. There are no words left for you."

"Good. Stop talking then."

Steve kisses him again, leaning over to one side and opening the rear passenger door, and okay, maybe it's a little unceremonious, the way he manhandles Danny in and onto the backseat, but they're long past whatever could be called the romance stage of this thing they have going on. Danny yelps and bats at Steve's hands and arms, complaining about oil stains and bad knees and how he's too old for backseats, but it's basically all just buzzing in Steve's ears.

He strips Danny's shirt and tie off with military efficiency, throwing them behind him out of the car, ignoring Danny's cries of protest when they land on the garage floor. Danny's pants follow, caught up in his shoes when they get to his ankles, but the whole bundle is similarly dumped behind Steve as he kisses down Danny's chest, making a beeline for his cock, which despite any argument from Danny, is definitely interested in some backseat fumblings.

"I hate you, McGarrett. I really fucking hate _you_."

The last 'you' is moaned through gritted teeth when Steve gets his mouth around Danny's cock, sucking on the head like he would a lollipop, swirling his tongue over the tip, nudging into the slit. He slides down, taking all of it in slowly, until his nose is buried around the darker blond curls around the base. He takes a deep breath, smiling inwardly when he smells the soap from the shower Danny must've had just before he came over, no time to get himself hot and sweaty in the Hawaiian heat -- not that Steve would've minded. He likes it when they fuck at the end of a long, hard day at work, and Danny smells musky and masculine. He could spend hours just running his nose over every inch of Danny's skin, but that would probably prompt more insinuations about Steve's mental health and he's sure that one of these days Danny will make good on his threat and set him up with some shrink. Danny can be pretty ninja himself when he wants to be.

"Oh, God, babe. You gotta -- oh, fuck."

"Hmm?"

"Nnfgh, Jesus Christ, don't fucking _hum_."

Steve can't help his chuckle, mostly at the completely improbable position they've got themselves into -- Danny on his back across the backseat, Steve kneeling half in the footwell and half out of the door. He wriggles out of his coveralls, reaching down to untie his boot laces at the same time. He lets Danny's cock slide out of his mouth for a second, backing out of the car and watching him lie there for a second, boxers around his thighs, cock wet and shiny with saliva, bobbing up with each heaved breath from Danny's chest.

He strips off the wife-beater, getting a groan out of Danny who props himself up on his elbows to get a better look, eyes travelling down over Steve's now naked chest, lingering on his groin. Steve gets rid of his boots as he unfastens his jeans, smiling again when Danny groans once more, this time at Steve's lack of underwear.

"You know, when you do eventually kill me, it's not gonna be with a gun or an explosion at all, is it?"

"Well, it'd be a better way to go, right?"

"Shut up and come here. I hope to God you've got some lube and a rubber stashed in here somewhere because I am not doing it raw again, not after the last time. I do not wish to have to explain to my daughter why Danno can't sit down right now."

Steve can't help his snigger as he nods, digging into his pockets before he takes his jeans off, kicking his feet free and crawling back over Danny's body, ridding him of his underwear as he goes. He waves the sachet of lube and condom in Danny's face before dropping them to one side, finding Danny's mouth with his once more. The kiss is a little more desperate now, Danny's hands roaming all over Steve's grimy skin, fingers raking through his hair, down his spine. He grabs Steve's ass and pulls and pushes until their cocks are lined up, and Steve thinks that maybe the condom was a bit ambitious, because just this would be enough.

Danny, apparently, has other ideas though, because he's pushing Steve away and spreading his legs around Steve's thighs -- as much as he can manage in the cramped space they're afforded right now. Steve grins at the needy whine Danny gives, hunting blindly for the lube beside them. The sachet is only small, so Steve mentally tosses up between two options, grabbing the condom packet when he makes up his mind.

He rolls the condom down over his dick quickly, finding himself wondering how long it's actually been since Danny appeared in the doorway of the garage. Not long, but not their quickest hook up. At least Steve was still fully dressed when Danny arrived.

He kneels up when Danny tears open the sachet, some of the lube dribbling down over his fingers already as he stretches to sit up, reaching for Steve's cock. He lets the lube run down over the length, both of them watching its progress as it trickles down. Steve swipes two of his own fingers through the wetness and brings them to Danny's ass. He circles Danny's entrance a few times, dipping his fingertips in but only going as far as the first knuckle, prompting Danny to poke him in the shoulder.

"While we're still young, McGarrett."

Steve can't help the way his head snaps up at the use of his surname, and sometimes, when they're fooling around after a few drinks, Danny will call him 'Commander' and the reaction would be embarrassing if Steve wasn't a few sheets to the wind.

Danny smirks, pulling Steve forwards by his shoulders. It takes a bit of shuffling and a few yoga moves but they get themselves in a reasonably workable position. Steve's cock is so hard it's almost painful while Danny's is flagging a little, listing to one side over his thigh. Steve runs his hand over it, gripping it loosely as he starts pushing in, and for all the lube they put on Steve's dick, the lack of preparation shows in Danny's face when Steve feels his body give way, sucking Steve in.

"Oh, fuck."

"Okay?"

Danny opens an eye from where he's screwed them shut, giving Steve a look that says 'what the hell do you think?' which Steve manfully ignores, rocking his hips as gently as he can manage, fighting the urge to slam home hard and fast -- the fallout would not be good.

"I'll -- go slow."

"Like fuck you will. Just -- just give it to me, Steve."

Steve lets out a groan, dropping his head down as he jerks his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in Danny's body, earning a hoarse shout from Danny and some very creative swearing. He pulls out again slowly but doesn't pause before he slides back in, fucking Danny open, feeling his legs tremble around Steve's waist.

It's not going to last long, not for Steve anyway. He'd seen the look in Danny's eyes the last time he'd been working on the car, how he'd licked his lips at the dirt and oil and grime over Steve's skin, but they hadn't had chance to do anything about it because of course there'd been an emergency and off they went. Steve had jacked off in the showers at HQ when he found five minutes to shower, but it had been highly unsatisfying. Today he'd been determined to make the most of Danny's 'mechanic fetish' as he'd been calling it in his head.

Danny's fingers bite into the skin of his shoulders, clinging on tightly. His cock is getting hard again between them, but Steve's hands are delicately placed for maximum balance and he'd rather get through this without a broken nose for either of them. Danny seems quite happy to take the job in hand -- literally -- and he groans again, melting slightly into the seat underneath him when he gets hold of his cock.

"Okay?"

Steve asks the question a little firmer this time, relieved when Danny nods, that long tongue of his coming out to lick his lips. Steve can't help but think of all the things that tongue has done on Steve's body, all the places Danny has tasted, the way it curls and twists when they kiss, when Danny wraps it around Steve's cock, or -- on very rare occasions -- delves into Steve's ass. He shivers at the memory, picturing himself spread out over the bed upstairs, Danny kneeling between his legs, tongue running down his spine, hands pulling his buttcheeks apart, giving himself room...

Steve swallows, blinking and coming back to the here and now when Danny shifts, pushing back onto Steve's cock, forcing him in deeper.

"Fuck, Danno."

"Not -- not during sex, Jesus."

Danny's words would be a grumble at any other time, but now they're almost lost in the moans that echo from their chests, the wet sounds of sex filling the car around them. Steve's thighs slap against Danny's when he starts moving faster, shoving Danny up until he's forced to brace one hand against the door behind him, bearing down on Steve's dick.

"Come on, babe. You gotta be close, right? Come on, come on."

One of these days, Steve will get Danny to shut up completely, but right now he's too far gone to care, nodding and biting into his bottom lip, wishing he could bend himself enough to kiss Danny as he comes, wishing he could get a hand on Danny's cock, help him get there quicker as well.

Steve comes with a low grunt when Danny rolls his hips in a circle, making him jackhammer for a few beats, riding the cresting wave that rushes through him, until he feels Danny coming over his stomach, splashing warmth over Steve's skin that spreads through to his insides, the two of them bleeding into one.

Danny's panting when Steve comes back to his senses, sweat glistening over his chest and face, running in beads down his temples. Steve feels his face split into a smile as he slumps down onto Danny's chest, nuzzling into the damp blond curls there, kissing the curve of Danny's chest muscle. There's a sticky hand in his hair, but Steve's over it, and besides, they both have engine oil everywhere anyway.

"So, did you remember why you came over?"

"No, but this will do."


End file.
